


You're Invited!

by Kittyreanne



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Angst, F/M, M/M, One Shot, Wedding, but it's mostly about unrequited oumasai, i don't wanna overtag u_u, i know it says saimatsu, there's more characters than those tagged but, this fic is ouma centric, those have the main speaky roles at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 17:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14773827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kittyreanne/pseuds/Kittyreanne
Summary: The moment Kokichi laid eyes on that glossy postcard, he knew what Shuichi had sent.You're invited!He immediately regretted finding it.





	You're Invited!

Kokichi approached his towering apartment building, completely dwarfed by its height. Supreme Leaders did not live in apartments—they lived in mansions and palaces! But Kokichi had no one to live with, especially not when most of DICE had moved in with their significant others, so he decided that this would work until he could snag the perfect right-hand man to live with. 

He entered the building with the usual exaggerated pep in his step, grinning and waving towards one neighbor that particularly hated him. The crotchety man averted his eyes, pretending that he hadn’t seen Kokichi. 

“Aw, are you ignoring me?” Kokichi called out, cupping his hands over his mouth. The neighbor scurried out of his path and quickly ducked into a hall, and Kokichi chuckled to himself as he buried his hands into his pockets. Now he could enter the mailroom without any secret spies tailing him.

Being the important man he was, Kokichi always had a ton of mail, and today was no different. He opened up his mailbox just to have a sea of letters spill out onto the floor. Using the bottom of his oversized shirt as a makeshift bag, Kokichi gathered them all up and marched up to his apartment. When he pulled out his key, all of the mail unceremoniously dropped onto the floor again.

“God, what a pain,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes. “I don’t wanna pick it up!” 

Kokichi threw open the door, looking down at the mail reluctantly. Once he had made up his mind on what to do with the letters on the floor, he kicked the mail inside, pushing it into an already existing pile of unopened junk that he would never get around to reading. 

“I’m home!” Kokichi shouted to no one in particular as he slammed the door behind himself. 

As if someone had heard him enter his apartment, something vibrated suddenly. Kokichi spun around and clasped his hands together in the shape of a finger gun, ready to fake-out shoot whatever it was. But after a moment of keen surveillance, he realized that the vibration was just from his phone, not any secret attackers. He let out a giggle at his own paranoid reaction and slipped his hand into his pocket, whipping out his phone. 

The source of the notification was a text from Shuichi, so at least the shock wasn’t unwelcome. He was delighted that Shuichi was sending him anything at all. Though he hyped himself up for the message, all it said was:

_**SS:** Did you get my letter? _

Kokichi shot a wary glance over to the pile of mail, debating his options. He could lie and say no, or he could scour through the pile with a month’s worth of unopened shit just to find one letter from Shuichi.

Surely Shuichi could just text him whatever it was he needed to say, right? But he hadn’t seen Shuichi in so many weeks that something in him screamed to find it, even if just to have a little piece of him to hold near and dear for a moment. 

Although Kokichi had graduated from Hope’s Peak a decade ago, he had never gotten over his crush on Shuichi. His excitement at his long unrequited love contacting him overrode the tempting laziness. With a resigned sigh, Kokichi dropped his phone onto the couch, then plopped himself down in front of the pile.

“Alrighty then,” he mumbled to himself, rubbing his hands together as if he were preparing a dastardly plot. “Let’s get crack-a-lackin’.”

Kokichi dug through his mail with lightning speed, throwing things that looked unimportant into a discard pile right behind him. It was difficult to find even a single thing that stood out. All that he could find were harassing letters, death threats, unwarranted love letters, bills, spam, bills, garbage, oh, and more fucking bills. 

“This is too hard,” he whined, slapping his hands into the pile. The letters went scattering, flying around him like a small cyclone, and he buried his face into the paper. “Resend the letter, Saihara-chan! I don’t have the energy for this.”

Unfortunately, Shuichi was nowhere near him, and he did not comply with Kokichi’s wishes. He lied face-first in the pile, pitying himself for a good few minutes. But the part of him that really missed Shuichi urged him to keep going. 

Kokichi begrudgingly picked his head up and looked down at the mess of letters with hardened resolve. Now that the letters were more scattered, it was easier to look at each individually. He tried to find the familiar curves of the kanji for Saihara, the two symbols that he scribbled over and over in his diary in hopes that they would summon him, those two characters that reminded him of how alone he was in his bed at night. 

The moment he laid eyes on a glossy postcard, he knew it was what Shuichi had sent. Nobody else would be mailing him something this personal. Curious as to what the hell it could be, Kokichi picked it up, examining the picture emblazoned on the side. There Shuichi stood against an idyllic beach backdrop, arm draped over Kaede’s shoulder. She was wearing a sundress, looking as beautiful as ever, and Shuichi wore a bashful but radiant smile.

_You’re invited!_

He immediately regretted finding it.  


* * *

  
“You’re getting married?” Kokichi shouted into the phone, hand gripping it tightly. “And you wouldn’t even tell me, your best friend in the entire world?”

A nervous chuckle came from the other side of the line. Kokichi almost felt Shuichi’s breath in his ear, fighting off a shudder. He placed the phone on his pillow, switching it to speakerphone, and inched away from it.

“I would’ve told you earlier, but Kaede wanted it to be a surprise for everyone.”

Kokichi could just imagine Shuichi twisting a lock of his hair between his fingertips and looking away from him. He would do his best to avoid eye contact if they could see one another right now, Kokichi was sure of it. 

“So… surprise!”

“No fair,” Kokichi replied, flopping backwards onto the bed. The postcard was right on his bedside table, and he shot a glance towards it, debating whether or not he should pick it up. As much as he wanted to stare at the lovely picture of Shuichi… “I’m supposed to be the surpriser, not the surprised.”

“I told you, I’m sorry,” Shuichi replied. “I have nothing against you. It was her idea!” 

“So Akamatsu-chan has something against me?”

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Shuichi said through a laugh. Kokichi didn’t understand what was so funny about that. “She thought it would be really sweet if we just… you know...kept it as a surprise.”

“Jeez, Saihara-chan,” Kokichi replied, “I can’t believe you can afford something like this.”

He decided to pick it up, but immediately flipped it over so he couldn’t see Shuichi’s unbridled love for his fiancée. The expression on Shuichi’s face was too much for his heart to handle. But the details on the other side were no less devastating. 

The invitation detailed a very elaborate wedding venue that Kokichi didn’t expect for someone as shy as him. But the gorgeous beach paradise was just as sunny as Kaede; god, it suited her so well. Kaede and Shuichi had probably gone on vacation here before—he assumed the place in the photo was the same place described on the card—and decided that it would be a lovely place to get married. 

Kokichi dropped the postcard back onto the table and curled himself into a ball, picking the phone back up. He disabled the speakerphone and placed it next to himself, ear right over the receiver. 

“Does a detective really make enough to fly all of his friends and family out to the beach?” 

“Kaede is using her money from her last tour to pay for this, actually. You see—”

Shuichi kept speaking, detailing the intricacies of their payment plan, but Kokichi stopped listening to their content. He allowed Shuichi’s words to turn into background music so that he wouldn’t have to listen to an ode to Kaede. Shuichi trailed into a tangent about why Kaede loved that beach so much, that much he unwillingly caught. Adoration for Kaede dripped from his words, but those droplets stung like Shuichi was flinging acid in his face. 

Kokichi pulled the phone away from his ear, letting the words fade into a gentle buzzing. The detective devolved into further rambles, and Kokichi rolled his eyes as he mimed Shuichi speaking with his free hand. 

Blah, blah, blah, his left hand mimed. 

Kaede, Kaede, Kaede, the right one replied. 

“Well, Saihara-chan,” Kokichi said into the receiver suddenly, cutting off Shuichi’s unwarranted soliloquizing. “I don’t know. I’m awfully busy all the time, you know. You know how it is being the leader of a top secret organization and all.”

“DICE is still ten members big, Ouma-kun,” he said. “You can’t be so busy that you can’t take the day off. You’re your own boss, aren’t you?”

“Oops! You got me there,” he giggled into the phone.

“I’m sure they won’t mind if their leader disappears for a day to go to his friend’s wedding. Right?”

Kokichi knew that they wouldn’t mind, especially since he never took days off. They’d probably be overjoyed that their leader was taking some time to see his friend. 

“Once again, you’ve caught me red-handed,” Kokichi replied. 

“Put those red hands up in the air and surrender,” Shuichi said, tone playful in that way Kokichi loved so much. “I’ve got you right where I want you. No use in protesting now.”

“I’m cornered, Saihara-chan!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “What do you want from me?”

“Actually, I do have some demands, you filthy criminal,” Shuichi said.

“Anything but my life!”

Shuichi broke character with his hesitance, saying, “It’s just one thing, really...” 

“Someone sounds nervous! Is it terrible and awful?” Kokichi asked. “Do you want to torture me? Do you want me to film your brand new Ultimate Cooking Show? Do you want to torture me on your brand new Ultimate Cooking Show?” Shuichi’s laughter overlapped Kokichi’s words. “You can’t leave me hanging like this!” 

“No, no, nothing terrible like that,” Shuichi assured him, still laughing a little. “If it’s okay, I’d really like to see you to talk about this some more. Ouma-kun, would you mind coming over to my place tomorrow?”

An opportunity to see Shuichi, who had been so busy with what the fuck ever for so many weeks? Kokichi ignored the nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach and twirled his finger underneath his cell phone as if he were twisting the cord of an old wall phone. The repetitive action helped calm the fluttering in his stomach, and he finally managed to say, “Sure, I guess I can free up some time.” 

Shuichi breathed a sigh of relief. It was so cute that Kokichi wanted to throw his phone onto the floor and break it so he didn’t have to deal with the apprehension and jealousy brewing inside of him. 

“Thanks a bunch, ultra-busy Supreme Leader,” Shuichi said. 

Kokichi could hear the smile in his voice. 

“Anything for you, Saihara-chan.”  


* * *

  
“I want you to be my ring bearer.”

Kokichi blinked, then stuck a finger in his ear and twisted it around. He pulled the finger out and examined it, then said, “Well, Saihara-chan, my ears aren’t full of wax, but I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

Growing red at Kokichi’s dismissal, Shuichi bit down on his lip. “I said, I want you to be my ring bearer.”

“Isn’t that a job for little boys?”

“Well—”

“Like, actual children?” Kokichi asked. His eyes trailed over to Shuichi’s bed, which just looked so inviting. He stepped over and flopped onto it the same way he did to his own bed after a long day of work. 

“Yeah, but—”

“Are you calling me a kid?” Kokichi asked, slamming his hands down on the mattress like a kid having a temper tantrum. Fake tears threatened to spill from his eyes, and he let his bottom lip quiver. “Is it because I’m short, Saihara-chan? That’s discrimination! I know I haven’t grown an inch, but I’m not a kid!”

“Ouma-kun, please—”

Not letting him get a word in edgewise, Kokichi laid it on thick, crying as obnoxiously as he could. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he wailed at the top of his lungs. It was easy to bite down his smile when he saw Shuichi’s expression flash with panic. 

“Why doesn’t Saihara-chan respect me? He’s discriminating against my midget status, because he’s a terrible friend!” he blubbered. “I’m so hurt!”

Kokichi had no idea when Shuichi got onto the bed, but Shuichi’s face was suddenly right next to his own, scaring the tears out of his eyes. He backed away from Shuichi, rubbing the back of his hand against his nose as he sniffled. 

“Ouma-kun, I know you’re faking it. Please, just stop.”

Wiping the remaining tears from his cheeks, Kokichi sighed. “You’re no fun.”

“I’m being serious here,” he said, folding his hands on his lap. “Look, Ouma-kun, I…” Shuichi took a deep breath, then locked eye contact with Kokichi. “I really want you to be a part of it. And I don’t really know any, well, any actual kids, and none of our friends nor any of my close family members have children yet. So I thought that you could do it. I mean… nobody cares about the normal conventions for weddings, right? As long as you’re there and a part of it, I’d be happy.”

“Do your friends even want someone like me there?”

Even to this day, most of their former classmates did not like him, and Kokichi was often made well-aware of this fact. He could just imagine the deathly glare that Maki would shoot him if she saw him walking down the same aisle as the married couple. 

“I don’t care what they want,” he said. “I care what I want.”

“What about your wi—” Kokichi couldn’t bring himself to say Kaede’s title out loud. Just saying it would solidify the truth he didn’t want to face. Thankfully, Shuichi knew what he meant, and didn’t question his uncharacteristic stutter.

“Don’t worry. I already spoke to Kaede about it, and she agreed that it would be fine.” Shuichi clasped a hand over his mouth and looked into the distance, losing himself in thought for a moment. “Actually, we already chose a bunch of roles… Kaito-kun’s going to be my best man, Yumeno-san agreed to be the flower girl, and Harukawa-san will be Kaede’s maid of honor. I couldn’t think of anything more perfect than you completing it, Ouma-kun.”

“You have plenty of other friends that you like a whole lot better than me, don’t you?” Kokichi asked. “Hoshi-chan’s even shorter than me, right? He’d be perfect for that kind of role—”

“Please,” Shuichi interrupted. “I really want it to be you.” 

His begging expression tugged at Kokichi’s heartstrings.

“He’s whipped out his secret weapon!” Kokichi exclaimed, clasping at his chest feverishly. “I don’t know if I can resist it!” 

Laughing at his antics, Shuichi said, “Please?” He clasped his hands together and drew even closer to Kokichi, who pretended that Shuichi was attacking him. 

He cursed himself for letting himself be persuaded by this fully grown man’s puppy dog eyes. But he was just the same cute face, and Kokichi couldn’t deny him. Kokichi choked on air and dug his fingers into his chest, before collapsing backwards onto the bed.

“Fine, fine, I concede! I’ll do it,” he said in a strained voice. Just as quickly as he’d fallen, he sat right back up, steeling his hands onto his knees as he shot Shuichi a devious grin. “But you’ll owe me a favor.”

Shuichi’s face brightened so much that Kokichi felt like he had to squint and look away if he didn’t want to go blind. He threw his arms around Kokichi’s shoulders and pulled him into a tight hug. That alone made it worth it, Kokichi decided, as he sunk into Shuichi’s embrace. He smelled just as Kokichi remembered, without even a trace of Kaede about him. Kokichi hoped that he would retain his scent when they pulled apart. 

“I already owe you my life, don’t I?” Shuichi whispered.

“You’ll owe a hell of a lot more than that from this favor!” Kokichi exclaimed. “I’ll be taking Akamatsu-chan’s life, too. And I’ll throw in Amami-chan’s as well. That might make up for this huge favor, maybe.”

“Why Amami-kun?” Shuichi laughed, breath grazing Kokichi’s ear. It sent a shudder down his spine. “But, sure. I’ll throw in her life, too. You can claim both of us, okay?”

“Alright, fiiine,” Kokichi said, drawing out his words into a long whine.

“Thank you, Ouma-kun.”

How unfair that Kaede got to lay in his arms like this every day. But here he was, touch-starved and alone, leaning into the arms of a soon-to-be married man, wishing that he could get this sort of comfort every day. 

It would probably be the last time he’d receive this sort of affection from Shuichi, now that he thought about it. Already his mind was formulating plans on how to avoid Shuichi the moment the wedding ended. He wasn’t going to be able to face Shuichi once he was a married man. It would absolutely kill him to know that his crush—no, unrequited love—of the past decade was with someone else forever.

Maybe he would move. Maybe he could change his number. DICE could relocate overseas, Kokichi could chuck his phone, and then he could change his name and avoid any contact from his beloved ever again. That sounded like a great plan. But before he enacted it…

Kokichi pulled Shuichi just a little tighter before the hug ended. If this was the last time, he had to make this last.  


* * *

  
Kokichi glared at himself in the mirror. He looked terrible in the terrible colors that the soon-to-be wed couple had chosen, and his neck felt naked and exposed without his scarf. The checkered bowtie that they had conceded to barely made up it.

The moment he agreed to attend this wedding he regretted it. He didn’t want to step onto the beach in this ugly tuxedo. He wasn’t in the mood to act happy-go-lucky. He didn’t want to pretend today. He wasn’t sure he would be able to let their comments of “Who invited him?” slide today. 

Fuck, he wasn’t even sure if he could keep his mouth shut if they asked if anyone had any objections. He could see himself jumping right out of his seat when the priest asked, shouting out his love to Shuichi. But it wouldn’t be reciprocated. He’d just embarrass himself and ruin Shuichi’s wedding by being a self-centered jerk. 

No wonder Shuichi had fallen in love with Kaede and not him.

God, Kokichi wanted to go home. He slammed his fists against the mirror, hoping that it would shatter to shards. At least then he’d have an excuse not to step out of this accursed changing room. He didn’t want to be here, not one fucking bit. 

But here he was, on the day of the ceremony itself, wearing this dumb get-up and shoving all of his emotions down his already constricted throat to be the ring bearer for a couple he wished he was part of. 

“Ouma, are you ready?” 

Without any warning or regard, Kaito flung open the door. Though he looked quite normal with both arms in the sleeves of his jacket, the most shocking thing about his appearance had to be the relaxed hair framing his face. He surveyed Kokichi with a wary expression. 

“Wow, you look surprisingly good in a tux, man!”

Ordinarily, he would’ve said something like, “Wow, Momota-chan, you look almost human without seven pounds of gel slicking your hair up!” or “Eek, Momota-chan, flinging open that door so suddenly— did you hope to catch me naked? I thought you were engaged!”

But Kokichi was not in the mood to exchange witty banter. He flashed Kaito a hell of a good fake smile and said, “Thanks.”

“You’re being surprisingly decent,” Kaito noted, motioning for Kokichi to leave. 

Without any protest, Kokichi followed his lead. It was better that Kaito was leading him, because his legs wobbled like jelly and he felt like he was trying to control his body using a broken joystick with inverted controls. 

“Oh, you know how it is,” he said, “I need to be on my best behavior for Saihara-chan, or he won’t invite me to the divorce.”

Kaito burst into laughter at that joke and clapped an arm around Kokichi’s shoulders. Fuck, it only reminded him how much he craved contact. But he didn’t have the strength to shove Kaito off, so he just grinned up at him as best as he could.  


* * *

  
Piloting his body from a mile away, Kokichi forced his legs down the aisle. His eyes felt glazed over and his body would barely cooperate. The only thing keeping him grounded were Tenko’s obnoxious calls as she cheered on the flower girl right behind him.

“Go, Yumeno-san!” she whisper-shouted, though it certainly was more of the latter than the former. “Show them your magic!”

At least his old classmates were all as annoying as ever. He could hardly be the worst attendee if someone like Tenko was actively shouting in the middle of the procession. Not that he cared how he came off right about now.

After what felt like the most difficult eternity of his life, Kokichi made it to the end of the aisle. He held out the pillow towards the couple, the two rings glinting in the bright beach sun. As they took them out of his hands, Kokichi wondered what it would be like to stand in Kaede’s place.

But he barely had enough time to consider it before he had to make his way back down the aisle with Himiko and seat himself back down.

Their vows were personalized, of course. They said some dumb sappy crap about how much they loved each other’s talent and dedication, along with some other mushy-gushy bullshit sentiments about caring for one another and wanting to stay together forever. If he wasn’t sure Shuichi would hate him forever for it, Kokichi would shove a finger down his throat and gag. It took all of his willpower not to, and thankfully the depressed haze settling over him helped quell any of his rebellious thoughts. 

He wanted to stay on Shuichi’s good side and maybe remain a decent memory. Though everything about him begged to destroy his image so that Shuichi wouldn’t miss him or spare him a passing thought, Kokichi really didn’t want to ruin this. He never thought Shuichi appreciated him half as much as Kokichi did him. The very fact that he’d asked him to play a pivotal role and even invited him at all was just too much. He could make himself out to be the villain all he wanted, but that didn’t change the fact that this boy had utmost faith in a notorious troublemaker not to fuck up, and for once, Kokichi did not want to disappoint him.

What an unusual feeling it was.

Kokichi had been tuning out most of their words. The more he listened, the more the ache in his heart increased. He felt like he was on the verge of an anxiety attack with just how tight his chest felt. But when he heard the unmistakable end of a sentence, “Speak now or forever hold your peace,” he knew what part of the ceremony they were up to.

God, he wanted to jump out of his seat and shout his objections. There was dead silence. Weren’t they supposed to omit this in modern weddings, anyway? This wasn’t a fucking rom-com, it was real life.

“Saihara-chan, I love you!” he shouted, casting away all reservations. He grabbed onto the back of the collapsible chair in front of him and rose to as tall of a height as he could muster. 

Everyone whipped their heads around and glared at Kokichi. How dare he speak up? he could just hear them thinking. But they were too flabbergasted to even acknowledge that he was pulling such a fucking crazy stunt.

“Ever since high school, I’ve always loved you. I love the way that you cover your face when you’re thinking! I love your dedication to your job, and I love how your eyes light up when you get excited about something. I love…” He grew silent. “...everything about you.” 

I love that you never gave up on someone as terrible as me, he added in his head. 

Kaede and Shuichi were both staring at him with bewildered expressions. He could see regret in Kaede’s eyes, like she immediately wanted to go back in time and rescind his invitation, and the utmost shock in Shuichi’s, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. They didn’t even exchange a glance. They just kept their eyes glued to him, waiting, hoping, praying that this was just a joke.

“And you know what? That was a lie.” There was a collective breath that resounded from the audience then, that of both relief, and that of utter exasperation. They had to be beyond pissed at him for even speaking up. “At least, it was a lie coming from me,” he laughed, hoping that his voice wasn’t shaking as much as he was. “Those are all the things Kaede loves about you, stupid. She never told you herself, but I’m telling you for her.” 

Fuck, why was he like this? Why did he have to speak up at all? He knew his cheeks had to be flushed as red as Himiko’s stupid hair. But even still he winked at Kaede, whose startled expression turned into a bright grin. She winked back at him.

She didn’t realize this was just another one of Kokichi’s poorly planned impulsive fuck-ups; she truly thought that this was for her. How could she have such a grateful and flattered look on her face when all he wanted to do was knock her off the altar and tie up her partner in his basement?

“I give you my blessings. And I’ll send all ten-thousand members of DICE after anyone who objects,” he said, gripping even more tightly onto the chair. Without it, he knew he would collapse onto the floor. “But come on, isn’t this taking a little bit too long? I want to move onto the cocktail hour already. I’m hungry!” 

It took all of his willpower just to act like his normal cheeky self and not just burst into unfortunately real tears. He knew that would be pushing it, even if he played it off as a joke. There was only so much of their spotlight he could steal. 

“God, just kiss her already, won’t you?” he goaded, leaning over the chair. 

“I knew we should’ve just let him give a speech,” Kaede said finally, breaking out into laughter, sweet and light like chimes. 

With a wordless nod, Shuichi agreed, embarrassment also turning into laughter. “T-thanks, Ouma-kun. Don’t worry. We’ll be done soon, okay?”

“Okay!” Kokichi flashed them both two thumbs up and then mashed his hands together as if they were kissing, before he flopped down and melted into his seat.

Supreme Leaders did not feel shame or regret. They did not look away when the Ultimate Pianist gave them an undeserved happy smile. They did not let the man of their dreams marry someone else. They did not try their best to sink into the ground, and they especially did not pray that a sudden sinkhole would form and swallow them up so that they never had to be seen again.

“Hey, Ouma,” Kaito whispered with a beaming grin. “That was surprisingly sweet of you.”

Kokichi averted his eyes, but flashed him a sickeningly sweet grin as if that had been his plan all along. 

Once he heard the crowd break out into a cheer, he knew that the happy couple was now consummating their love with a kiss. 

Fuck.

He couldn’t bear this any longer.  


* * *

  
Kokichi had never been more relieved than he was the moment the wedding ended. The flight back home was arduous. He did his best ignore the sound of cooing lovers behind him and ignore the snoring Kaito next to him, but not even the headphones blasting the loudest metal he could find silenced his thoughts. 

His apartment building always heralded thoughts of loneliness. He looked up at it, a sick sense of complacency brewing in his stomach. As reassuring as it was to be home and away from them… 

Kokichi ran through the hallway, ignoring the concerned call of his crotchety neighbor, concerned the one time that he hadn’t been bothered. 

Shuichi, the love of his life, the man taunting him in his dreams for years, was married. Maybe it was stupid, but he’d clung to the irrational hope that one day Shuichi might get into some particularly bad argument with Kaede, stay over at Kokichi’s for the night, and realized that the true love of his life had been someone else all along. Indulging in such fantasies always served as a masochistic reassurance, something as painful as it was calming, but it only made him feel worse this time. 

No matter how much he wanted to fantasize now, he couldn’t. There was no changing this. He knew it, but god, he didn’t want to accept it. 

Storming into his room, Kokichi grabbed a pillow and threw it at the wall, letting out an angry yell. He didn’t care if he was bothering his neighbors—he always bothered them anyway. Let them file a noise complaint. His heart had never been whole to start with, but now it had shattered into such a fine powder that he doubted there was anything in his chest anymore. 

He told himself over and over that it didn’t matter, that it was fine, that he was happy as long as Shuichi was happy.

With his body barely cooperating, Kokichi slunk onto the bed and splayed himself out. Burying his head underneath the pillow, Kokichi mumbled to himself, “But that’s a lie.”

He wanted to be in Kaede’s place. He wanted to walk down the aisle with Shuichi, to look up into his eyes with a bright smile, and to pull him close for a uniting kiss. He wanted Shuichi to pick him up and run down the aisle with him. 

God, he just wanted Shuichi to look at him the same way he did at Kaede.

But that would never happen. Not now, not ever. And that fucking wedding just made it all the more clear.

Kokichi clenched his hand into a tight fist and slammed it into the backboard of the bed. Then he wound up another punch, and another, and another, slamming it into the backboard with as much might as he could. Though it didn’t break, his hand was throbbing, and he picked up his head for a moment to examine it. The skin around his knuckles had broken, thin trickles of blood dripping onto his sheets. 

Once upon a time, Shuichi had tended to Kokichi’s wound when he’d hurt himself. But this time he knew that there would be no Shuichi to bandage it up. He would never display such intimacy with Kokichi ever again. He’d only do that for… 

Even thinking her name would be a punch in the gut. He buried his face even deeper into the mattress, not caring that he was smearing his bloodied knuckles all over the bedsheets. It didn’t matter any longer. 

Kokichi was sick of this. Who did he even have?

DICE was his family, that was true, but they had grown their own families by now, unlike him. The moment he left work every day, he grew more aware of how lonely he really was. There was nobody that he could ever come home to. Nobody would ever love him the way that he loved Shuichi. And though he wished that it wasn’t true, wished that he would one day be able to move on, Kokichi knew that nobody could ever replace him.

He hated this. He hated all of this so much, and there wasn’t a single thing he could do.

Kokichi did his best to muffle the sound of his sobs, but they were just so pervasive. As much as he wanted to pretend that everything was okay, he couldn’t lie to himself as easily as he could to everyone else. One hell of an adult he was. But life was not fair to him, so he didn’t care if he was acting like a child.

Fuck weddings, fuck ring bearing, and fuck Shuichi Saihara.

**Author's Note:**

> don't you just love happy endings??? oh, wait a moment... :/
> 
> beta'd by [megastarstrike](https://megastarstrike.tumblr.com)
> 
> thanks for reading! i hope you enjoyed


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